During their morning commute to the hospital, a sullen Lyla stared blankly out the window. "Well, today is gonna pretty much suck," she sighed.

Darcy fed the end of a Strawberry Twizzler into her mouth and offered the bag to her friend.

"No, thanks," Lyla said. "Friday. This shoulda been my last day. My friends, Shaniece and AJ are done today. Not me."

"It's only for one more week," said Darcy. "But, yeah. It still sucks." She paused. "Everything happens for a reason."

That triggered Lyla. "I hate that!"

Darcy didn't expect such an extreme reaction to her throwaway remark.

"Like my mom was supposed to get cancer and die?" Lyla fumed.

"Sorry." Darcy reached for her friend's hand. "That's not what I meant. At all."

Lyla retracted her hand, then drew a Twizzler from the bag straight to her mouth.

Trying to calm the waters, Darcy asked, "So? You catching up with your schoolwork?"

"What?" Lyla's phone rang. She didn't recognize the number, so she didn't answer.

Darcy looked flustered. "If you need help with Chem or anything..." 

Her phone rang again.

"Don't answer that," said Darcy, her face noticeably paler.

"Hello?" Lyla took the call.

"Uh, Lyla?" said a voice she didn't recognize.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, this is Wes."

Darcy tightened. She bit her lip.

"Darcy gave me your number," he said.

Lyla aimed fiery eyes at her friend.

Darcy winced.

"Just wanna say hi real quick," Wes continued. "You still there?"

"I'm here." She took a big bite of her Twizzler.

"So listen. That was totally a sketchy move on my part. Having Darcy ask you to the dance instead of me asking you. That's not me. I'm not a sketchy--"

"I just don't want to go," Lyla said. "Nothing personal. I just don't want to go."

"You're really putting me in a bad spot."

Lyla bristled. "To be honest, calling the day before the dance feels super desperate."

"Hey, look. I just thought we could have a good time. You and me and Darcy and Julian."

"So, Wes. Did you actually tell Jack you could get him..." She stopped herself. "Get something for him?"

"What?"

That drew Darcy's attention.

"Did you?" Lyla growled.

"I don't know what you're even talking about," he said.

"Oh, really?"

"I gotta go." He hung up.

She yanked the Twizzler out of her mouth, chewing slowly as she stared down her best friend.

Darcy apologized. "Okay. Obviously, I wasn't thinking. The three of us were hanging out at lunch, me, Julian, and Wes. And he said he wanted to call you and...I guess I caved to peer pressure." 

"You guess?"

Darcy took a quick look at her fuming friend then immediately directed her eyes at the road. "There aren't enough apologies in the universe." She gulped down her regret.

"And how would that make me feel better?

Darcy had no words, she hung her head.

"The last thing I need right now," Lyla huffed, "the absolute last thing I need is some guy pressuring me. And you gave him my number!"

As they pulled up to the hospital, Darcy managed, "I am so sorry."

Lyla shoved the door open and, without turning around grumbled, "Have fun at the dance." She slammed the door and stormed up the walkway toward the entrance. The only thing cutting through her boiling anger was a troublesome question. Was Wes truly clueless about Jack's request for a gun, or was he dodging? In either case, Lyla felt certain he wouldn't be calling back.

........

In wrapping up his afternoon session, Matthew oozed sincerity. "Shaniece. AJ. I'm sure I speak for the group when I say that we're going to miss you."

His remark brought tears from AJ. Lyla patted her back in consolation.

He said, "Remember. When you take responsibility for your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors, you get your power back."

AJ nodded, wiping her runny nose with the sleeve of her hoodie.

"Be open with yourself," Matthew continued. "What you can't say owns you. What you hide controls you."

To Lyla, those were the truest words Matthew had ever spoken.

The room fell silent.

Matthew scratched his chin whiskers. "I gotta admit, it's not the same without Natalie mocking me."

A burst of quiet laughter erupted. Matthew's mustache widened with his smile.

As the girls began filing out of the room, Shaniece said to Lyla, "You got my number. So use it."

Lyla pulled her into a hug and said, "I'll see you again. Hopefully, not here."

"Amen to that."

"Maybe I'll see you guys around," AJ chirped.

"Yeah, maybe," Lyla replied on her way to the security guard's desk to reclaim her phone. She checked her messages then said to Shaniece. "Packer's mom's coming to get me."

"Tell him I said hi."

"Yeah, I will."

As she crossed the atrium, through the windows, she saw the familiar blue car at the end of the walkway. She dropped her phone into her bag and exited through the sliding glass doors.

When she slid into the front seat, Ms. Packer clamped Lyla's hand in hers. "He told me what happened. My God, Lyla. That must have been terrifying."

"I'm okay," she replied, locking her seatbelt.

"Oliver's very upset about it," she said, steering the car away from the curb. "He hasn't stopped talking about it."

Lyla noticed that Ms. Packer didn't make the usual turn to get onto the highway.

"I'm taking you home," she said. "Oliver's had an extremely exhausting day at the rehab facility today. They're pushing him too hard. Way too hard. That's my motherly opinion." She drew a deep breath before continuing. "They don't see him when he gets home from those sessions. He's exhausted and he's in pain. Of course, he won't admit it."

"He's in pain?"

"I'm constantly reminding him that it was only a few weeks ago that he had major surgery. Most people would be taking it easy during their recovery. But not Oliver." She glanced into the rearview mirror. "I missed the turn, didn't I?"

"That's okay. You can make the next left."

"I suggested that maybe you guys can FaceTime or something when you get home."

"Yeah, we can definitely do that," Lyla replied.

"He's mad at me. And he lets me know he's mad at me but I have to do what I think is best for him."

Lyla nodded in agreement.

As they approached the Perry's house, Janica said, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah."

"What an awful thing to go through. You probably have nightmares."

You have no idea.

........

While climbing the stairs to her bedroom, Lyla received Packer's impatient text.

U home?

Lyla: Yeah.

Packer: Cal U?

She dropped her backpack onto the bed.

Lyla: FaceTime?

He responded with a FaceTime call. "Hey," he said.

"Hi."

Maybe it was because of the dim lighting in Packer's living room, but he looked gray and washed out.

"What's good?" he asked.

"Another day in paradise," she replied.

"Wish you were... you were here," he said, tenderness warming his smile.

"Me too."

"My mom's driving me in... insane," he said. "Wish she'd just go... into the office."

"Well, she's just doing her mom thing."

"Look. I got... got some, something to show... you," he said wearing a proud grin. "Look." He raised his left arm, his hand clenched in a fist. "I can make... make a fist. With my... my left hand. I can... can hold this spoon." 

"That's so awesome." Lyla smiled.

"You're not really... not really thinking about... doing that."

"What?"

"You know. Digging... digging him up. Salt and... and all that."

No response.

"It's a really... bad, bad... idea. And dangerous. I don't... don't want... want anything to happen... to you."

"At least I don't need to worry about his psycho mom anymore," she said with false confidence. Lyla heard the front door opening. "I think my dad's home," she said.

"Tell me you're... don't do it," Packer pleaded.

"Good night," she said. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"Don't do it, Lyla. Please... don't."